


My Dream

by eclipse447



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Among Us (Video Game) Setting, Angst, Based of Stream, Blood, Blood and Injury, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, DNF, Death, Gay, GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF) - Freeform, It's among us so obviously its violent, Kissing, Love, M/M, Murder, My dream, Romance, Violence, dream - Freeform, dreamnotfound, georgenotfound - Freeform, inferred suicide, passionate kissing, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:13:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28424520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclipse447/pseuds/eclipse447
Summary: based off George saying "my dream" in among us, except I got carried away :)PLEASE READ TAGS BEFORE YOU CONTINUE
Relationships: dreamnotfound - Relationship
Comments: 9
Kudos: 81





	My Dream

**Author's Note:**

> make sure you read tags before continuing, and I also didn't edit this so ignore bad grammar and spelling :)

Yelling. So much yelling and George can’t make out anything. A headache begins to creep in as he desperately tries to listen in to the chaos. He can’t figure out who’s accusing who and saying what. Worry fills his chest as he begins to see people put in their votes. His eyes dart around the table, person to person, trying to make out what was being said. When he realised he wasn’t getting to information, he votes to skip. And a good thing too. With 7 people left, there was one vote on someone random, 3 votes to skip and 3 votes for Dream. The Dream who he has been doing tasks with the entire time. The Dream who he knows for a fact is innocent. The meeting closes, the message of _no one was ejected (tie)_ taunting him from across the centre of the table. He could’ve lost Dream, and just because no one would listen to him. No one heard him when he began the meeting shouting that his boyfriend was innocent. Furious, he waits patiently for the meeting to wrap up before he speaks his mind. 

George snaps, slamming his fists on the table. All heads turn towards him, and Dream places an arm on his arm, rubbing small circles to comfort him. George throws a small smile in his directions, eyes softening at the sweet gaze of his boyfriend. However, he turns back to the matter at hand.

“You guys almost killed him,” he starts, soaking in the fearful expressions looking around at him. “The entire time we have been here, Dream has been with me doing tasks. He is innocent and nobody listened to me!” 

“Dream was the safe vote George, we need to get rid of him,” someone argues. Georges’s head snaps to them and they shrink under his gaze. 

“No one touches **my Dream** ,” he whispered intently, but with how quiet the room was, everyone heard perfectly. A soft tug on his arm catches his attention.

“Come on, let’s go do tasks,” Dream whispers to him, George nodding in response. They walk away hand in hand, leaving the room of stunning crewmates behind.

The two men are almost at the middle of the Y, when Dream gives Georges hand a soft squeeze. The brunette instantly leans into the taller, sighing in relief. Dream wraps a pair of strong arms around the shorter, breathing in the scent on his hair and allowing themselves to relax for a moment.

“Thank you,” the soft and loving tone from Dream was all it took for George to throw his arms around the younger and bury his face into his partner’s shirt. The amount of love he had for the man before him was insane. God, he’d fallen so deep for this idiot.

“I can’t lose you,” he mumbles, voice silenced slightly from the fabric in his face. Dream’s arms tighten, and George wants to do nothing more than go home and lay in bed with him once again. Dream taps Georges back, signalling for him to pull away. He complies, linking hands once more and they continue walking to the top of the Y. From there, George breaks away to complete the last few of his tasks in admin while Dream goes to the greenhouse. George speedruns his tasks in admin, eager to meet his boyfriend once again.

He walks up to the greenhouse to find Dream sitting in the corner, open arms and waiting. George wastes no time in running to him and sitting on his lap, wrapping his arms around the others sneak and pressing his lips against the other. The younger wastes no time in taking control, deepening the kiss as he runs his hands up and down the older. George shivers under the touch which drove the blonde crazy, attempting to get as close as possible the smaller. George tangles his hands in dirty blonde locks and pulling slightly, eliciting a delightful moan from the younger. George smiles into the kiss, continuing to massage the other scalp and soaking in the wonderful noises it would create. Dream bites softly on Georges’s lip, asking for entry to his mouth which was swiftly granted. They work each other’s mouths in sync, not caring who was watching. Tongues on tongues and Dream moves his left hand to George’s thigh, squeezing slightly and his right to the other’s neck. They break apart to break, Dream eyeing Georges pale, unmarked neck like a predator to prey, and George was more than willing to be the prey. Just as the older begins his marking, the lights begin to fade, snapping the boys back to reality. 

George sighs, disappointed, and hops off Dreams lap, helping the younger up. His knees felt weak and his heart was pounding against his chest as if it wanted to break through. 

“You stay here, I’ll go do lights,” George opens his mouth to protest, but before he knew it the other had disappeared into the darkness. The brunette sunk back down against the wall, waiting for the other to return. It made sense for them to turn the lights back on since they were the closest to the office. 

Light returned to the room and George smiled, anticipation flowing through him as he waited for his boyfriend to return. And waited. And waited. The longer he sat against the cold wall, the more worry sank into him. He sat for around 30 minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore, and he got up and left the greenhouse. The second he stepped foot in the hallway, blaring red lights filled his vision, scaring him half to death. In a monitor on the roof was a countdown from 120, next to the words _oxygen._ This hasn’t happened before. He’s only read about it in books based on _the game._ He lost his boyfriend (and finding him was still his number 1 priority), and now he had to deal with a crisis before everyone died. 

George sprung into action, running down from the top of the Y and finding another crewmate who seemed to be equally as confused as him.

“We need to go fix oxygen!” George yells to them, blaring red lights hurting his vision immensely. 

Distorted colours and sounds bringing the two crewmates more panic than ever, a heavyweight settling on George’s chest. All logic flies out the window as he sprints down the corridor alongside the other, all screaming as they watch the timer slowly tick down. More shouts as they round the corner, George slightly behind his ally. He turns the corner in a rush, only to be met but a knife. The breath leaves his body instantly and he feels numb as he looks at the knife that was pushed effortlessly through his stomach. Another thump from just in front of him, and in his peripheral he sees his fellow crewmate crumple into a ball. Shakily and with a lot of struggle, he lifts his head to look at his killer. His eyes gloss over, not from physical pain, but emotional, as he looks into those forest green eyes, brighter than anyone else. Those eyes that are usually concealed by a mask, but are now vulnerable. Those eyes that still mean everything to him and hold an emotion that he can’t quite explain. His knees buckle and he falls to the side, landing mercilessly on his shoulder. He curls in on himself; tears creating a small puddle by his face. George strains to keep his eyes open, watching through blurry vision as the figure in front of him crouches down. He swallows and takes shallow breaths, feeling a string of thick liquid escape his mouth.

“I’m sorry Georgie,” the voice was familiar, though, in his delirious state, George can’t place where from. It sounded like honey and angels that made George want to smile. A soft hand brushes the hair that was stuck to his face from sweat. He tries to respond, but something getting caught in his throat causing him to cough violently, blood spurting from his mouth. The sharp jolt intensified the pain in his stomach. He groans, scrunching his eyes closed and attempting to take another breath. George reaches a red-covered hand to the figure crouching in front of him. The figure links hands with him without hesitation, sighing audibly.

“I really am sorry my love, I didn’t have a choice,” he finally made a connection between the figure and the familiar voice, heart tearing in two. It couldn’t be.

“M-my Dr- Dream,” He chokes out, coughing up a horrifying amount of blood. His senses begin to cut off, hearing and vision going fuzzy. He panics once the world begins to spin, feeling as though he was looking through a smudged lens.

“I will forever be yours, Georgie,” Dream replies softly, tone filled with hurt. It was comforting in a way to the brunette, who was struggling to keep his eyes open. His grip on the blonde loosened and as did his grip on reality. He used the last of his energy to get his fingers joined to Dream, desperately trying to stay connected to the man he loved. The last person he would ever see.

“Close your eyes and rest my sweet, I love you so much,” a ghost of a smile rested on George’s face as he closed his eyes for the last time in the bittersweet presence of his boyfriend and killer. Dream felt numb as he watches his boyfriends hand slowly lose grip on his, before finally falling from his grasp and onto the floor. The blonde closes his eyes, taking in a deep, shaky breath as the realisation of what he just did hits him like a truck. He opens his eyes hesitantly, blinking back tears and staring down at the brunette one more time. _He caused this._ The heavy guilt takes residence on his shoulders, as he runs his finger down Georges now pale, cold cheek. Even in death, he still looks so peaceful, so beautiful. He grips the knife; still lodged deep in his lover’s stomach and pulls it out in one fluid movement, flinching at the quickening gush of blood pouring out and onto the cold floor.

Dream stands up straight, holding the knife loosely by his side and listening to the blood drip off. He pulls down his mask over his face, turning to Toast who was switching off the o2, just in time. He couldn’t be joining George just yet, he still had a job to do. He nods to the man in blue, getting a small smile in return before watching him jump in a vent. Dream remains still, finding himself unable to move. The weight of his actions has become too strong, not allowing him to move even an inch. So he doesn’t. He stands in the halls, surrounded by his and Toast’s handiwork until the victory screen flashes in his vision. Dream should be happy. He should be laughing and celebrating with his teammate. But as he looks down as the sharp utensil in his hands, he knows what he has to do.

_I’m coming George, I’m coming._


End file.
